


Go Forth to the Bounds of the Universe

by midautumnnightdream



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Asterix AU, Canon Era, Gen, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, except none of them are actually three sentences, most of these are three sentence prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15428283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midautumnnightdream/pseuds/midautumnnightdream
Summary: Teensy ficlets of various Les Mis characters in fantastic or whimsical AU scenarios, based on Tumblr prompts.





	1. Combeferre and Feuilly, Magic AU (part 1)

“A most curious phenomenon indeed,” Combeferre muses, his expression betraying nothing but most detached curiosity, even as the fresh burst of light from the object just inches from his nose forced him to close his eyes against the glare – Feuilly is impressed almost despite himself.

“It was left here as a thank you gift by one of my foreign visitors from last month,” Feuilly explains, with nonchalance he cannot feel: offering shelter and assistance to fellow revolutionaries is one thing, and something his friends could well understand; having to explain how he came to use a glowing feather of the mythical Firebird as a cheaper alternative to candles for bedside reading is another matter entirely.

Combeferre hums non-committally, as if only half-listening, but when he finally looks up, there is no mistaking the look of mischief breaking through the dispassionate scholarship: “I think, my friend, we have finally found a possible explanation to Enjolras hair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firebird is a regular visitor in Slavic fairy tales, often bringing trouble upon those who try to capture it. Feuilly won’t get greedy though – he just wants some extra light for his late night reading)


	2. Combeferre and Feuilly, Magic AU, part 2

““Become a wizard,” they say,” Combeferre growled, trying and failing to extract his foot from a pothole filled with… something. ““Learn the true, unedited history of the mankind,” they say. “Advance the human race by understanding and accepting it in its darkest form.” They _do not_ say “And by the way, learning to understand humanity is a lot smellier than you might expect and is most likely going to result in a very untriumphant death by cholera.””

“Oh come now, surely you are not saying that you don’t find our current preoccupation to be most edifying,” Feuilly answered, genuinely surprised, even as he had to admit that the idea of braving the rancid smell and darkness of Parisian sewer system during a hot summer day had never been high in his list of priorities.

Combeferre glared balefully into the impenetrable darkness that was determined to become the sole owner of his left shoe. “I do no like getting my feet wet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the Magicverse, sewer exploration is a quest undertaken by all serious magic practitioners who wish to develop their understanding of human nature. The basis of this practice is the infamous treatise written by noted essayist and theoretical magician Victor Hugo, who in turn was inspired by conversations with one Bruenseau, an adventurous practitioner, who not unrelatedly, was also a huge troll. The rest, as they say, is almost history.


	3. Bahorel & Jean Prouvaire, Travelling Circus AU

“Do you think there is going to be a riot at tonight’s performance?” Jean Prouvaire asked, securing the clasps of his safety harness with a satisfying ‘click’.

“What makes you think that?” Bahorel managed through the knife clamped between his teeth, the blue glint of steel giving his grin a decidedly sinister look.

“Oh, you know,” Prouvaire waved his hand, a gesture that somehow managed to encapsulate the banned flag folded over his arm, a selection of Phrygian caps spread across the table and the choice of intriguing-looking pamphlets stacked between them. “Just wondering.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as "The one in which no one dies and Les Amis de l'ABC join a circus to hide from the government (and inevitably end up instigating rebellions wherever they go)"


	4. Enjolras/Courfeyrac, Italian Renaissance AU

“Look at you, taking on the whole might of Rome with that new German machinery,” Courfeyrac grinned, gesturing towards the pile of pamphlets that were doing precarious imitation of Pisa tower. “If I didn’t know so well that your dedication is for our cause alone, I’d expect you to start joining Combeferre and Joly in some of their dafter experiments.”

Enjolras did his best to look stern, but Courfeyrac’s little grin was far too endearing and infectious. “They work towards the advancement of the humankind, as do we all.”

“As do we all,” Courfeyrac repeated, wrapping his arm around Enjolras’ shoulder as he eyed the piles of papers in decidedly speculative manner. “You know, I was thinking…” he murmured in the other’s ear, equal parts playful and cajoling. “The church so loves to burn our writings. What if we gave them a taste of their own medicine, hm?..”


	5. Bahorel & Jean Prouvaire, Astérix AU

In the grand scheme of things, of course, their fates were already decided – no matter how bold their warriors, how skilled their druids, they were just one village barricaded into this small corner of the land with sea on their backs and the whole might of Rome marching towards them: Jean Prouvaire wondered whether the so-called storytellers of Rome had already marked this day in their histories as the date when the last of the Gauls were fully brought under the control of their Empire. He let his fingers form melancholy twangs across his lyre strings, earning a few baleful glares from the passing villagers, which he ignored – it was not given for everyone to understand art, and Jean Prouvaire wouldn’t hold it against his friends.

So absorbed in the mournful music of his own thoughts, he almost didn’t notice Bahorel’s approach, until the warrior sat down beside him, clasping his shoulder. “Planning to fight the Romans with a deadly weapon of your own, I see,” he noted, the teasing tone of his voice gentler than if it was directed at anyone else. “They’ll drop their weapons and run screaming I’m sure – very unkind of you to not leave any for the rest of us.”

Prouvaire scoffed, wincing a little as his lyre let out a pained, mournful sound of a screeching discord. “If it frightens them, all the better, for we’ll be remembered. Even when we are gone, we’ll be part of their histories.”

(They almost were)


End file.
